“This is just hearsay, but I've heard he was the one who hacked the Federal Reserve. And never got caught. A billion dollars or something crazy like that. Apparently, he did it right from his mother’s home in Los Angeles.”
Jethro laughed deeply. “Oliver, are you the last to know?”
“Know what?” The tall Frenchman stared at Jethro, genuinely surprised.
“Who do you think is holding that kind of money for him? It's in the vaults below, and making a damn good interest rate for him too.”
“Huh? Really? No one tells me anything. My staff thinks I'm too straight.”
Jethro laughed. “That's why you're in charge, my friend.”
They walked toward a window and saw a supply freighter below them, 100 meters away, pulling into Transhumania’s docks.
“Oliver, I need you to make security as tight as possible. Now that things are getting intense we can expect terrorist attacks at any moment. I want every ship scanned for unauthorized personnel, dirty bombs, bio-agents, and anything else dangerous.”
“Of course. Our people and detection systems wouldn't miss a thing. No ship or plane gets within fifty miles of here without being digitally laser-scanned from the satellites, then boarded and scoped by our machines.
“Fine. Just keep on top of it. It’s one of our greatest vulnerabilities.”
“What about more people? Burton told me you're looking into extension plans for the platform.”
“It's true, more qualified people want to join than I can actually incorporate at the moment. So floating extensions are being considered for the best of them. Seems the whole world wants to come aboard now.”
“Well, of course. So what are you going to do?”
“Honestly, we don't need them right now. At least not here in the city. We already have the best. Our immortality research is progressing so quickly we're going to be near the endgame in a decade. Death under most circumstances will cease to exist for Transhumanians. And those on the outside who can afford to will come here and buy near-perfect health. We just need to fend off the world until that time comes.”
“What about after ten years?”
“There are so many possibilities and angles, so much potential. But I don't plan to still be floating Transhumania in another decade. I don't think anyone does, as wonderful as that might be. I think the future holds going back into the world, bringing transhumanism and its gifts to the continents.”
“So you're set on our timeline to try and take it all back.”
“Yes, Oliver, I'm fully committed. We should be ready for our war plans in twelve to twenty-four months at the latest. We need the world’s resources and many of its talented people as well. There are a lot of gifted transhumanists out there. Many of them just don't know it yet. Once they do, however, they’ll significantly accelerate the speed and success of our long-term goals.”
“Fine. Then we’ll stick to the schedule and continue to let the world see our new weaponry and technologies. Surely, that will vex them enough to compel them to come knocking someday.”
“That's the plan,” Jethro answered, looking off towards the sea, feeling America just over the horizon. In his head, the map of his life and ambitions was as vibrant and clear as ever.
************
Five months later, Dr. Preston Langmore stood next to Jethro Knights’ dinner table, clutching a microphone. He was giving a speech at the fifth anniversary celebration of Transhumania. Listening to him were 10,000 other citizens who filled the sky hall on the top floor of the Science Tower. Surrounding them was a forty-foot-high glass atrium that panoramically overlooked the water. The horizon had engulfed the sun only three minutes before. Looking out, one felt like a ship in the sky, drifting amongst scattered clouds, a plethora of fading green, orange, and blue hues blanketing everything.
“And so, my fellow colleagues, the future is now upon us,” Langmore said, his words rolling slowly and precisely off his aged tongue. “The new cell-like substance that we’ve developed has so many applications. The manipulation of its DNA, controlled by our nanobots, will bring unprecedented changes to human life in the next decade, perhaps even in the next few years. We will begin our ascent to a truly immortal life form, full of all the benefits of what it means to be a transhuman being.”
Clapping ensued around him. He waited graciously and then continued.
“It is no coincidence that the first fruits of our work are now appearing in full form exactly five years after the launching of our beloved city. It gives me boundless pleasure to know that many of you are already improving your bodies by undergoing the necessary upgrades to achieve that which we always knew was possible: perfect health."
Langmore continued his oration. A host of other leading Transhumanians, including Rachael Burton, had given speeches before him. Deliberately not on the schedule to speak that evening was Jethro Knights. Swamped with keeping the city running smoothly and efficiently, he chose instead to concentrate on greeting as many people as possible. He shook hands, discussed research angles, offered congratulations on breakthroughs, promised better budgets, dealt with grievances, and strove to calm fears that the outside world would soon destabilize Transhumania’s mission. His optimism and reassurances were strong pillars of confidence, vision, and inspiration to all.
When people were just finishing with dinner and beginning to mingle, Jethro decided to take a moment to make a toast. He grabbed his wine, stood up, and waited until the massive hall quieted down. Soon, all that could be heard were thousands of whispers. Langmore brought him the microphone.
“Friends, colleagues, and fellow citizens, the past five years have been a triumph for all of us. It has been a triumph for the human species and for whatever lies out there for us to become. Our sovereign transhuman nation has grown tremendously, mostly due to the courage each and every one of you has shown by coming here, by living here, by working here—by believing in what is possible on our dear planet and also in yourselves. You’ve set an example for the world of how to live and how to act, of how to fight for the challenge each of us faces. Your courage has brought in more funding that I ever would've dreamed possible. We are now nearly quadrupling the incredible generous donation of Mr. Vilimich, who originally bestowed upon us the resources to give birth to this nation.”
Jethro bowed respectfully to Frederick Vilimich, sitting to the right of him.
Thousands of people stood up and began clapping and cheering for the huge Russian man. A tiny, subtle smile appeared on the man's hardened face, his thick brows covering his eyes like tentacles. He slightly nodded in appreciation. Jethro clapped for him too, noticing at the same time the almost imperceptible creases in the man’s shirt pocket. Inside it, as always, was the aged photo of Vilimich’s wife and son. It made Jethro think of Zoe Bach for an instant.
When it quieted down, Jethro continued naming other milestones Transhumania had reached, and discussed what could be expected in the future with so much new funding available to so many promising minds. He even commented on the fact that, remarkably, Transhumania was now at full occupancy, and a waiting list of amazing scientists eager to join was tens of thousands long. He spoke enthusiastically about the other transhumanist organizations around the world, and about some of its leaders who were in the crowd that night. He mentioned how they were creating powerful networks of transhumanists, including variations and offshoots of his beloved Transhuman Citizen. Even other seasteading transhuman cities and flotillas were reportedly being considered for construction. Jethro promised to work hand in hand with anyone embracing the transhuman mission, and praised the courage of people in far-off places.
Clapping ensued again.
“But I am not toasting them tonight,” Jethro interrupted the crowd, speaking over their noise. “I am toasting you. You, for making this special night possible. You, for renewing your contracts and continuing with your research. You, for supporting and standing by the transhuman mission. You, for allowing the omnipotende
rs in all of us to manifest and for participating in the Transhuman Revolution. May you all live as long as you wish. May you all find and fulfill your dreams. May we achieve what we set out to do.”
The crowd exploded into cheers. Some held their filled glasses high in salute; others made the transhumanist infinity sign with their hands above their heads.
“Enjoy your celebration,” Jethro shouted.
Moments later an army of waiters began moving tables and clearing a large open space in the sky hall. At a nearby stage, the world famous band, the Mellon Wings—flown in just for the party—jubilantly announced it was dancing time, and launched into their first song. A dance floor soon appeared near the musicians. A gambling area with a dozen card tables was quickly set up in the east corner of the hall. A giant chessboard using four-foot robots was set up in the west corner. An immense fifty-foot-wide television screen—complete with twenty helmet apparatuses capable of connecting all players at once to an experimental virtual world—was set up in the south corner. The screen's image showed a tree-entangled Mayan temple in a teeming jungle full of howling monkeys, jaguars, and parrots. Waiters, including some who were droids, pushed through the crowd serving champagne, wine, beer, and Imagineade—the Transhumanian-brewed energy drink that induced creativity. The muse on the transhuman city was festive and celebratory.
Jethro Knights didn't stay long before disappearing into his residence to work. Preston Langmore, Rachael Burton, and Oliver Mbaye met near the blackjack tables and nervously looked at each other, knowing exactly why Jethro had left early. Yesterday, Transhumania's network of insiders in Washington, D.C. reported that a U.S. Congress-supported vote, to begin sanctioning and eventually policing the floating city, would soon be held.
************
On the same day Transhumania celebrated its fifth anniversary, the media reported countless demonstrations and terrorist attacks around the world against transhumanists. The headquarters of a new life extension group in Budapest was torched. A CEO of a private cryonics center in Japan was found shot in the head, a Bible quote from the Book of Isaiah penned on his forehead. A Transhumania-bound package in transit at a postal distribution center in Philadelphia, billed as science equipment, exploded when prodded in a radar detection system.
Reverend Belinas was in the midst of a critical week. He worked closely with his squads of thugs, making sure each led noisy, disruptive campaigns during the anniversary time. He assigned his most talented agitators to work alongside other international anti-transhumanism outfits, instructing them to help those groups carry out hostilities against life extension and human enhancement scientists. He promised financial kickbacks and valuable press promotions to the leaders of those organizations if they succeeded in their violent activities.
“Don’t worry,” Belinas told a nervous director of World Light Network, an aggressive Christian group with ties all over Europe and Asia. “My friends at IMN and their crews will be there covering the stories you drum up. Just be sure to make news that casts the transhumanists negatively, and I'll make sure extra special funding arrives for you next year.”
Over the past year, public views on Transhumania were increasingly becoming more divided. Many thought it worrisome and threatening that on a small floating community in the Pacific the world's best scientists carried out radical experiments unsupervised by any regulatory international bodies. Others cheered that amazing advances could come from such a unique, independent place. The media, often pressured by intimidation from the NFSA and high-level American politicians, mostly chose to depict Transhumania in a one-sided, negative light. Senator Gregory Michaelson continued to be ubiquitous on the news circuit, giving damning speeches on the renegade city and its dangers to American society. Belinas did the same in his broadcast sermons. Even the U.S. President took time in his State of the Union address to discuss the grim hazards the rogue nation might present to the human race.
Ultimately, many laypersons tuned out the warnings they heard, caring less and less for the doomsday naysayers anymore. Disastrous times had already arrived for large swaths of the world. Misfortune and adversity were everywhere. Having all the basics—food, employment, affordable fuel prices, safe schools, and healthcare—was more difficult than ever to come by, except for the wealthy. Besides, wasn't it sensible to want some of the technology and advancements being developed in Transhumania, many asked. The cancer vaccine and treatments Transhumania had recently invented were especially contentious because pesticides, air pollution, and the breakdown of the ozone layer were producing a populace with significantly higher rates of cancer.
Yet, people couldn't get access to the medicines. The American and other A10 governments had forced pressure on domestic companies to disallow affiliation with Transhumania, including all its products and innovations. Of course, when it came to healthcare, people just wanted the best, especially those who could afford it. You don’t tell a prosperous, hardworking mother and father their child is dying from leukemia when a cure exists 3,000 miles off the coast. That’s when the parents pledge allegiance to transhumanism and arrange a private black market charter flight to Transhumania for a week of treatment. Medical care on the floating island was expensive for outsiders, but the incredible cures, advancements, and health results were easily worth it. Thousands of wealthy, powerful, and influential people from around the world began flying to Transhumania to assuage their health issues. By the time those outsiders departed the floating city, many were passionate believers in the TEF Manifesto and the transhuman mission. Back in their home countries, they compelled their friends and family to think the same.
For those who couldn’t afford to get to Transhumania or to purchase its superior medical care, but were worthy to receive it, Jethro Knights created the Immortality Grant. It promised to treat, at no charge, 500 non-Transhumanians from around the world every month, if they were afflicted by life-threatening diseases or debilitating health situations. To qualify and be accepted, an applicant simply had to prove in a short essay why he or she was worthy to receive the free help, but couldn’t afford it. The applicant did not need to be a believer or a supporter of transhumanism. For any person chosen, free transport, housing, food, and medicine were provided to cure their ailment, improve their health, and change their life.
Every month a different twelve-person team of Transhumanians, led by Jethro, sat around a giant conference table and scoured over tens of thousands of applicants. These people ranged from dying cancer patients to crippled car accident victims to children hounded by tragic birth defects. Everyone applied, from environmental activists in Paraguay, to rural school teachers in Mongolia, to children soldiers fighting dictatorships in Africa.
Almost overnight, the Immortality Grant became one of the most renowned awards in the world. Those who received the grant and returned healed from Transhumania said the experience was like a swim in the magical waters of the fabled Fountain of Youth. The media, large and small, widely covered some of the most extreme healing cases, often in sensational ways. Inevitably, an ever-increasing number of people applied for the grant every month. Soon, the number of applicants was in the millions. Most of those people were not worthy of the uniqueness of Transhumania’s life-saving gifts.
“Here’s a Las Vegas lady requesting the grant; she has five kids from three different marriages,” announced a young biochemist. He was sitting at the conference table with Jethro Knights and ten other Transhumanians on that month’s Immortality Grant team, scouring through endless applications. “She says she’s unemployed, lives in a trailer park, is barely able to feed her family, and now has been diagnosed with brain cancer. She says she wants to live longer so she can teach her kids how to be responsible, upright people.”
A computer engineer sitting next to Jethro grumbled loudly. “Isn’t there a way to screen idiots like that from the applicant pool? What a waste of our time. Send her six feet of rope to hang herself.”
"Negative," said Jethro. "The cost
of the rope isn't worth it."
“Finally got a good one," a nuclear physicist blurted out. "This 22-year-old Cambodian kid started a small nonprofit group to put solar panels in isolated villages near the border of Laos, where there isn’t any electrical power at all for a hundred miles. Unfortunately, both of his legs were blown off by a landmine while on the job last year, and now he can’t physically do the work anymore. He’s requesting new legs.”
“Put him in the finalists pile,” said Jethro. He sounds like the kind of person who would enjoy a few weeks here while we bolt on our newest bionics to get him back to work.”
Despite the huge success and generous spirit of the Immortality Grant, the United States Congress voted for America to begin banning all association with Transhumania. It enacted laws that made the use and application of its inventions, medical cures, and technology illegal, treasonous, and punishable by prison time. Congress cited that Transhumania’s unregulated weapons proliferation, dangerous untested medical cures, and violations of accepted world trade, tax, and technology agreements were all highly illegal.
To enforce its new sanctions and laws, the U.S. Government began carefully monitoring and inspecting all airports and ports where planes and ships to and from the floating city might arrive. More importantly, it instigated high-level conversations with other A10 countries, asking all members to apply the same political, legal, and economic pressure to Transhumania as the U.S. was doing. With the world economy shattered, A10 countries agreed, sensing a good chance to divert their attention to something that seemed righteous, humane, and praiseworthy. Soon, all members began issuing threatening rhetoric and applying sanctions against the seasteading nation if it refused to allow the United Nations to internally monitor its scientists’ experiments and emerging technologies. Inevitably, a global united front was formed against Transhumania.
The Transhumanist Wager Page 37